In Heather King’s own words:
If the existence of God were susceptible of being “proved,” I would have to kill myself, because it would mean there were no God. It would mean there is nothing greater than us. Also, if God could be “proved,” chances are only smart people would be able to grasp it. Where would that leave the stupid people, the dense people, the slow people? The fact is we are all stupid, slow, and dense, in our ways. That’s why God works through contradictions and paradox. He works through the human heart: a method that doesn’t derogate intelligence, or diminish the glory and importance of intelligence, but puts it at the service of something greater than oneself.
I once read an interview with Sam Harris and he said something like the man who would fall to his knees before a “dewy waterfall” and pledge his heart to Jesus is psychotic. And I wanted to say, Oh Sam, you’ve never done anything you were really ashamed of. You’ve never found yourself in the grip of a compulsion from which you couldn’t find your way out. I’ve done things I’m ashamed of. And maybe you have to have done things you’re ashamed of, or to have been in the grip of a compulsion…. that’s how we come to God. We come to God when we’ve sensed the limits of “justice,” of worldly evidence and proof. We come when we need mercy and forgiveness and healing….We come when we’re sick; after we’ve squandered our inheritance. To deny God is actually the worst kind of squandering of our intellectual and every other kind of inheritance, because it denies the movements of our souls and hearts—which, ironically, is the one “proof” we do have. “Blessed are the poor in spirit…” That’s the “proof”; that’s the truth…
If you need God, then why Christ? you might ask next. Why not an abstract God, a God who’s somewhere out in the ether, a God who’s more or less an idea, an abstraction? Maybe because the world ‘religion’ comes from the Latin *religare, which means to reconnect’ and to reconnect I first have to feel the full pain of my own separation: this aging body I’m afraid and ashamed of; my brain, which can’t seem to stop running in compulsive ruts; my heart, which keeps lurching open and snapping shut at exactly the *wrong times. …To me, the most incredible and best possible news about the Incarnation is that it means God isn’t out there, He’s in here.
Sometimes it seems as if what I long for is so far beyond what is here on earth, or that any person could give me, or respond to. And at the same time I see ever more clearly that I have never been really alone. I haven’t missed anything, and in fact, all those untold hours, days and nights, years and years and years,when I have wandered around alone, yearning and aching, it was only for Jesus.